A Wedding
by Bethany Ruth
Summary: List 9 reasons why you shouldn't get married.  actually pretty decent I swear, just read the bit at the top first .


**READ THIS BIT! TRUST ME! LOOK HERE!**

**I wrote this just now in about an hour and a half. I used one of those writing cue websites and ran with it. If you want it to be really touching, get your YouTube up and type in Where is my Mind – Sunday Girl [PLEASE]. The song is perfect and what I actually wrote this to, so I'd really appreciate it if you trust me on this one. Thanks for reading ;D**

Breathe Arthur, you can do this. Just close your eyes, brace yourself, and _breathe_. Now, if you're sure you want to do this: think of nine good reasons. Nine good reasons to leave this room right now and never come back.

9. This is the wrong time. I'm too young to settle down. Getting _married_? Are you _kidding me_? I'm not ready for that kind of commitment. I'm only 25 for Chrissake. What am I doing? Standing in the bathrooms of the Plaza, gripping so tightly of the rim of this sink that my knuckles are white, staring at my god damn reflection. It was supposed to be today, it still _is_ supposed to be today, but I just _can't_ do this.

8. This is all too much. Not just the timing aspect. This wedding, it's _so over the top_. The _Plaza_? I mean, come on! But because it was her dream, I couldn't just take it away from her. I'm not ready for this but I'm not cruel. God, what should I do? This is so difficult. Come on Arthur, keep going.

7. It's just paperwork. A single piece of paper and a couple of rings, that defines the rest of our lives. Makes certain things acceptable. It's one thing to be together, but adding that gigantic weight of _marriage_ on there? I don't see the appeal. Why would I do that to myself? I mean, what's the advantage? She can proudly profess that she's Mrs Arthur Linton? What do _I _get? Shared health insurance. Great.

6. What happens to us? Everywhere I look, spontaneity seems to vanish when people get married. The _passion_ and the _romance_, the _whole reason_ people get together, just – evaporates. I don't want that to happen to us, I love her too much. There's a knock at the door that I completely ignore.

5. I love her the wrong way. The more I think about it now, the more I know. I love her like a sister, I want to protect her, I want her to be happy. I know she wants the same for me. Maybe, if I get to nine, she'll understand. She is very understanding, God, there's another reason.

4. I don't deserve her. She's a fantastic person, good to the very core. Where some people are unreliable when it comes to fidelity or honesty, she can't be trusted with a whole packet of cookies, and she occasionally steals the covers. Her smile is beautiful and she _always_ sees the good in people. Maybe that's it. Maybe she makes me feel bad about myself because I know I'm not a - strictly speaking – 'good person'. I realise that the knocking at the door hasn't gone away. I should probably answer it. Releasing my death grip on the sink, I walk over and unlock the door, returning to my post as Cobb walks in, closing the door behind him.

"How're you holding up? Nervous?" I answer him with the distress in my eyes and my undone bow tie. "Yeah, I know how you feel: that's how I felt the day Mal and I got married. You do the lock yourself in the bathroom and tell yourself it's all wrong trick. Then, as you get closer to your number one reason why you shouldn't get married, you realise that all the other reasons you made are irrelevant, because she's the one. Trust me. I'll see you out there, you've got ten minutes. Good luck, big guy." And like that he's gone and I'm alone again. I turn around and stare at my reflection once more. Come on Arthur, soldier on. If Cobb's right, then two reasons from now, I'll realise I'm wrong.

3. Failure will always be on the horizon. Fifty percent of relationships fail, and nine out of ten marriages end in divorce. I cannot tolerate failure. I _will_ not. I _refuse_. I just _can't_ _do it_, knowing that I am not successful in _any_ field that I attempt is enough to crush me. But something like marriage, something that so many people choose, if I failed at that, I don't know what I'd do with myself. That paranoia and pressure to be perfect is something that I thrive under, but how can I when there is _no way_ to be perfect at marriage? A sound resonates in the room. It might be a knock but I could never be sure, too engrossed in my thoughts now.

2. If I make this decision, it will be _forever_. The only way I could handle myself if I did step into this marriage would be if it lasted _forever_. The only way I could be anywhere _near_ perfect would be if I could make her never want to leave me, never doubt me, never _look_ at _anyone_ else. And that's just impossible. I'm not naive enough to believe it is for one minute. I'm not an idiot. And neither's she: she'll realise all my flaws and leave me, which would make me a failure. I look up at myself and jump when I see him in the reflection.

"You do look dashing in a tuxedo darling."

That's when I realised reason number one.

"Thanks Eames."

"Nervous?"

"Only for what I'm about to do."

"Well that's kind of why I asked, pet. Marriage is a thing to be nervous about after all."

"I'm not doing it."

"What?"

"I can't marry her."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Darling." His hand reaches out to mine. I take it. A tear falls. Then more. Whether they're mine or his I don't know. I don't care. Because I realised what reason number one on my list of nine reasons not to get married to Ariadne today is.

His hand is on my waist as he reaches over and locks the door, locks us in this marble and golden cage. "Darling," He murmurs into the top of my head. "It's alright darling, take all the time you need." I feel it now, I know I'm the one crying. My knees give out and I pull him to the floor with me. He sits with his back against the door, holding me against his chest as my heart pours for her. Pours a year of regret, shame, and infidelity. After a while there are knocks and shouts on the other side of the door but I can't hear them. All I can hear is Eames' reassuring whispers and the silent sound of our suits wrinkling and I don't care. I don't care because I realised the most important reason.

She's not the one.

**Please tell me what you think. Thank you for reading.**


End file.
